Into The Woods
by autumnbethanynicole
Summary: Stowing away in the dense forests of Scotland, Harry, Ron, and Hermione encounter and take in a certain blond wizard. Hiding from snatchers while developing feelings for someone is never easy. Can the Golden Trio make it through the war while housing an enemy fugitive? Rated M for language and sexual themes in later chapters. May contain violent themes as well
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hello all! This is my first-ever fic, so CC/reviews/ideas/feedback of any kind is very welcome. Anyways, here it is. I found it quite short, but let's see how it does before I continue updating.**

 **Disclaimer: I do NOT own anything related to Harry Potter or Harry Potter himself. I do, however, own several pages of Algebra work that's due Monday. Uni is going to kill me.**

 _ **Chapter One**_

 **23 December, 1997 | 4:53 AM | Location: Scotland**

Hermione almost sighed, but caught herself. _No, not here. Not now._ She couldn't risk it. She pushed her limp curls out of her eyes with a hand cocooned by her jumper sleeve. She hugged herself around her slim torso (even more so as of late) with her right arm, relishing in the feel of the momentary warmth that spread throughout her core. But she wasn't one to dwell on what she didn't have. _Keep going, Granger. Carefully._ Clenching her wand in her left fist, she trudged on, white dragon breath escaping from her lungs and into the frozen air. The sound of a twig snapping behind her was stark against the stillness of the Scotland forest. She came to a halt. Wand ready, she spun around on the axis of her heel.

" _Who's there?_ "

She couldn't believe whose gaze she had caught.

 **16 December, 1997 | 1:37 AM | Location: unknown**

Draco's body writhed in pain. Was there no end to this? How long had it been? Hours? Days? He couldn't tell anymore. All he knew was blinding pain. It wouldn't stop. He felt every millisecond of his limbs being ripped from his body, chunks of his brain being pulled through his nose, the invisible dagger in his gut dicing his intestines. All at the same time. But as quickly as the bastard's thin, greyed lips had uttered "crucio," he had made it stop at that speed as well.

Godric, his entire being hurt. His soul hurt. Well, if he had one, that is. The Dark Lord didn't. Merlin knows how he'd managed to _split_ something nonexistent. _Let alone into seven bloody pieces._

He had to get out of there. He had to find the order.

 **23 December, 1997 | 4:54 AM | Location: Scotland**

Her deep chestnut eyes met his steel ones. There was an intake of breath, but from whom? Perhaps they had both breathed in the winter air sharply. _Is this really happening?_ Her startled glare roamed over him, absorbing his appearance. Not in a sexual way, like she denied that she had done in fifth year. He looked...he looked bloody _awful_.

 _Well, so much for the good looks he's always depended on._ Godric _, is he okay?_

Despite the pity she felt, she couldn't help but outwardly smirk at the sight in front of her. Slytherin's prince was now the pauper.

Malfoy caught the upward tilt the left side of her mouth took on. Yes, he looked like hell. He was aware. But right now, Merlin, right now, he could absolutely care less at the anger that welled up in his chest. He was so sore. So _thirsty._ And freezing. _Damn Scotland. Damn Voldemort._ But Mudblood Granger...he needed her (no matter how much he denied it).

He opened his mouth to speak, but all that came out was a gravelly rasp. Oh yes, the screaming. From all the torture. _How_ could he have _possibly_ forgotten?

He cleared his throat, which felt like his vocal chords going through a meat grinder, but he finally was able to speak, kind of.

"Granger... _water?_ "

 **25 December, 1997 | 5:09 PM | Location: Scotland**

His eyes slowly fluttered open, his surroundings blurred and spinning. The sound of people talking filled his ears but it was muffled. How did he get here? Where _was_ "here?"

" _Just wake the git up, 'Mione. He's been sleeping fo-_ "

How long? He was drifting again. Sinking. _No._ His hands weakly grasped the sheets. The smell of clean linen in his nose, making him woozy. Comforted. And with that, blackness enveloped him.

 **A/N: So? Any thoughts? Reviews are always appreciated and so is constructive criticism. Thanks for reading!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Hi! After over a year gone, I've just written this second chapter. I wasn't going to continue it after I published the first chapter last year. I didn't like how it turned out and assumed nobody else would either. But, I logged onto Google Docs the other day and got bitch-slapped with some inspiration. So, I typed on it here and there for a few days, and came up with another short chapter (but it's still longer than the first so yay me). Anyways, I hope you enjoy!**

 **December 26, 1997 | Scotland**

Draco rolled over and yanked at his covers. Where in the hell was he? He felt his skin prickle with the presence of magic, but it wasn't cold or dark. It was warm and thick like honey and he thought back to the buzz of it in the Great Hall. It was home.

He buried his face back into his pillow and inhaled. It was a familiar smell and finally caused him to raise his head and look at his surroundings. The first thing he saw was cream-colored canvas and his eyes crossed trying to focus on the woven pattern. Swinging his legs over the edge of his cot, he glanced over and picked up his borrowed wand lying on the end table. The lamp was on despite daylight pouring through the holes scattered over the material of what he assumed was a tent. He continued to sweep his eyes over the room. Two other cots. A table. A camp stove. Old books- did he recognize those from somewhere? He stood and, on wobbly legs, walked to the center of the room and touched the spine of the leather-bound manuscript.

As his fingertips brushed the old thing, it flew open under his touch and began screaming. He immediately covered his ears and backed up, bumping into the table and knocking over a small wooden chair. This, too, was full of books, which joined the horrid screech. He uncovered his right ear and pointed his wand just as all of the chaos stopped. He glanced down at his hand and then up to see the tent flaps open and a slightly unnerved Hermione Granger furrowing her brow at him. She lowered her wand and spun on her heel back out of the tent. Several muffled voices and footsteps later, she returned, but this time with Harry right behind her. She stepped in and her cheeks flushed due to the cold. Standing beside her, Harry gave him a once-over and glanced worriedly at Hermione.

"What do you need?"

Her sharp tone made him wince inwardly a bit, reminding him of his Aunt Bellatrix. He attempted to maintain his cool facade, only to receive a sharp _"Well?"_

Trying to clear his throat, he gave up and rasped.

Hermione went over to the camp stove and somehow managed to bring back hot tea in about 15 seconds. Draco noted her use of wordless magic. After gulping the majority of the drink down, he nodded and righted the chair he tumbled before throwing himself down into it, sitting his mug on the table.

"Food," he started, glancing at Harry and then back to the witch, "I'd really fucking like food."

Hermione pulled a galleon out her pocket and whispered something. "Ron's out checking our traps. He shouldn't be far."

Draco glanced at Harry and he clarified for him, "Traps. For hunting. He can't have gone far, we have wa-"

"He's here," Hermione cut him off. She brushed past them both and went out the tent door. Draco glanced up at Harry.

"Bit touchy as of late, yeah?"

Draco didn't agree nor disagree with him, just stood and followed her out. She stood at the edge of a knoll, and a fleeting thought whispered, _holy shit I'm bloody freezing._

He warily approached her and glanced down the hill towards a mop of flaming hair. In his hands he held a significantly large rabbit and he had a stupid grin plastered on his face. Until he saw the Death Eater.

Making his way up the snow-covered slope, Ron sent a jutting glance towards Malfoy and then a softer but equally as stern glance to Hermione.

"Gotta rabbit, 'Mione."

His tone was clipped but all the same, Draco gave a curt nod and addressed him, more than he ever would have done with such civility. "Weasley," he started.

"Malfoy," Ron snapped, then handed off the dead animal to the Gryffindor princess and shouldered past the blond wizard.

As Hermione turned to re-enter the tent, something caught his eye. A necklace hung around her slender neck, a green embellishment in the center. He shivered and accounted it to the below-zero weather and made his way back inside.

Hoping he hadn't gotten some sort of frostbite, he let the warming charms in the tent wash over him and he sighed. As he did, the other three glanced at him with their hands on their wands.

"Well, Malfoy? No witty remarks for us today?" The redhead shouldered past Hermione defensively and stared the opposing pureblood down. Draco stared back, then glanced at Potter, who was looking at Ron as if he were disappointed in him somewhat.

"Weasel, if I were going to be a dick would I have sought you out? If you want to know why I'm here," he paused then, assessing the room once more. "We can discuss it over that rabbit you landed."

Ron looked on wearily but turned his gaze to his two companions, particularly the one who possessed the animal. She did a few cleaning charms on it and then laid it on the edge of the table before taking her books and putting them away.

After Hermione had made the rabbit and they had all eaten their share with some canned foods the witch had heated up, they sat around the small table with their stomachs full. After an unpleasant belch from Harry, Draco crinkled his nose and leaned forward. Setting his elbows on the table, he started to speak:

"So, why I'm here. The Dark Lord is currently living at Malfoy Manor. If you call it living. Vile thing, really-"

"He's in the Manor?"

"Yes, Potter, don't interrupt-"

"Sorry, I-"

" _Harry_ ," Hermione corrected him, looking across the table at the two boys. "Go on."

"As I was _saying_ ," Draco huffed, "After being tortured relentlessly for days, with my mother indisposed with shock or grief, I don't know quite what, and father in Azkaban, I was able to snatch a wand off the Carrow brother," Everyone looked at him, puzzled. Ron leaned forward nervously, watching Draco look down at his thin hands. "I was able to stupefy him when he came into my cell. I locked him in and took his Death Eater robes. Luckily, I wasn't seen, and the wards don't alert anyone if someone leaves. Either that, or they don't care very much who gets out.

"I hadn't eaten or had anything to drink in I don't know how many days. My vision was spotty from being in the pitch black of the dungeon for so long. With a few concealment charms, I was able to slip into Knockturn Alley undetected where I stole some horrid clothes from a store there," He glanced up to see all three pairs of eyes fixed on him, so he continued.

"After making my way to Diagon Alley, I was able to slip into the Three Broomsticks where I sat behind some ministry workers. Might need them fired, by the way, because those brainless fuckers completely let it slip that some Order members were camping out at 12 Grimmauld Place. Luckily, I _am_ technically a Black; I was able to get in without any complaint after stiffing the waitress on some food and drink. That's when my arse was almost blown to bits by my lovely estranged cousin Tonks. You," he directed at Harry, "Ought to know her well. Shouldn't come as a surprise to you. She housed me for two days after cleaning up the worst of my wounds. Most of which were torn muscles and the like, due to shackles and the Cruciatus.

"Lupin helped with the mental part of things. Being in that situation definitely fucks you up a bit. After the two days, I left a thank-you note and apparated just outside of this forest. Tonks said that she had a lead from McGonagall that you lot might be here. I traipsed through the woods all day until nightfall when I was forced to seek some sort of shelter due to the cold.

"Around day three I developed something. Fever, vomiting, the like. I don't remember much past that besides being extremely dehydrated and Granger finding me in the woods. What's odd, though, is that I don't think she would have found me if it weren't for a patronus."

"A patronus?" Harry looked at him, somehow even more intrigued than before. "What was it?"

"A doe."

 **Well? How'd I do? Is anyone slightly interested in a third chapter? If you are, leave some comments/reviews/feedback! Anything you want me to add? I feel like I have an okay thing going. I will definitely try to update every Monday EST (USA) if it's any count. Also, what's up with Hermione? I'm sure you guys know! ~A**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Hey party people! I currently have a cracked/injured hand while writing this chapter so please excuse any spelling/grammatical mistakes I may make. It's completely unintentional! Anyways, if you've been paying attention to the dates in the story, this chapter will be going back a few days and touching down on the Draco/Hermione situation in the woods. Again, thank you so much if you've read this far! I might as well continue to add that I don't own Harry Potter blah blah blah. If I did I would have more than $8 to my name.**

 **December 23, 1997**

As the man in front of Hermione collapsed, the grip on her wand loosened a bit. She approached him and flipped him over onto his back. He wasn't dead, judging by the small clouds of white air escaping between his lips. Pulling off her right hand glove, she pushed the back of her hand against his forehead. She quickly pulled it away on account of how hot the skin was. His lips were blue and he shook slightly. Furrowing her brow and glancing around furtively, Hermione cast a quick spell to see if this was a trap or not. The area was clear, but she still made sure to check the pockets on the rags he wore. One of his shoes were missing and the bottom of his exposed foot was black.

Transfiguring a fallen branch into a scarf, she began to wrap it loosely around him, covering his nose and mouth from the harsh below-zero temperatures. She transfigured a few more things after that. A rock into an insulated sock, some leaves into a coat, and lastly, a tree limb into a papoose board. Levitating him onto the gurney-like plastic, she strapped him down. Levitating him while trekking back through the snowy woods wasn't as hard as she had assumed. It might have been difficult for someone not capable of as much concentration as she was.

Seeing the slope up to the tent and safely back inside the strongest part of the wards, she felt comfortable enough to call out without taking any chance of being heard.

" _Ron! Harry!_ " She exhaled rapidly as she lowered Malfoy to the ground. Both boys' heads jutted over the edge of the hill, looking down towards her with their wands drawn.

"Bloody hell," Ron started, before Harry finished the thought for him.

"Is that _Malfoy_?"

Once Ron and Harry helped to get Malfoy up and into the tent, Hermione scaled the hillside and pushed her way in. He was on the floor and breathing raggedly, rasping as he did so. Dragging the tip of her wand down his front, she sliced off his clothing and began to request things as she assessed his injuries. She _accio_ 'd her bag, and with the help of the boys retrieving her healing items, she began to work on Draco's beaten body.

"I need my silver and dittany paste, blood-replenishing potion, and Skele-Gro. _Espiskey!_ " At this, Draco's nose cracked into place and Ron gagged. Hermione acted as if she didn't hear him and continued. " _Ferula_ ," one of his ankles was heard setting itself, and this was repeated on two of his fingers, the majority of his toes, and almost all of his ribs. Once the ribs were mended, his rapid breathing continued and the young witch felt of his side and listened to his heartbeat. She had a strong suspicion that it was what muggles called a pulmonary embolism. She braced the boys for what was next. "Hand me some pieces of his old clothes. You may want to look away," after saying this, his torn up shirt was passed to her and she added, "There's blood in his chest, I have to get it out or he'll die."

Making a small incision on the left side of his ribcage, she worked the tip of her wand into the cut and stopped to put the shirt against him on the floor. " _Expelle Sanguinem!_ " Blood poured out of his chest cavity, and the unconscious wizard gasped roughly before his breathing returned to normal. Hermione's hand pushed into his neck for a moment to confirm that his heart rate was stabilizing and then cleaned the opening she made and sealed it. Past that, it was minor things like removing the dirt and blood from his body (the spell is _Tergeo_ , in case you were wondering), healing superficial wounds, and treating the frostbite on his foot with standard burn paste mixed with essence of dittany.

After cleaning her work area up and redressing Malfoy in some of Harry's clothes, she moved him to her cot and covered him up. Getting a glass of water and a hot cup of tea, she went to the bedside and cast _enervate_ to wake him. His eyes flew open and she pushed the water glass up to his lips. He drank from it heavily until it was empty and Hermione switched it out with the hot tea. This, too, was emptied, and with that, Draco's silky hair sprawled out upon the pillow as he fell back asleep right then and there.

Hermione was _pissed_. Perhaps it had to do with the locket hanging about her neck. Maybe it was because she had just taken in a _fucking Death Eater_. She pinched the bridge of her nose and paced back and forth, head down and eyes closed. Her inner monologue would _not_ shut up and it was only making her more frustrated. As she walked back and forth across the tent, the two boys stood back. Looking from an unconscious Malfoy to an irritated Granger and back, confused and speechless. Finally, Ron was the first to break the silence.

"'Mione. _What the hell_? Are you aware you just brought a bloody fucking Death Eater into our _super secret tent_? He could have been a snatcher! Or, or...I don't know, but he's on the wrong side! An enemy! His fucking house leader killed Dumbledore, not to mention _he_ was the one supposed to do it. And have you not forgotten all the shit we've put up with from him for six years, or no? Have you lost your bloody mind? Bringing him back and mending him up! If it had been _me-_ "

"Except it _wasn't_ you, Ronald! It wasn't! It was me. I don't fucking know why I brought him back. He was sick. Do we fight for the light or no? Dumbledore believed there was some good in him, why can't there be? Did you see the shape he was in? From the looks of it, he's been tortured and beaten for weeks now. How could he have been a snatcher when he was probably too weak to even hold a wand?" There was a pause as Ron studied her fiery expression. "Well?"

Harry ran his fingers through his hair nervously. "Well, really, Hermione. He's a total prat. I don't want him here as much as Ron doesn't."

Hermione sighed and went back to pinching her nose and pacing. Finally, she heaved out a sigh and said, "Sit down. I'm not going to discuss this without all of us collecting our thoughts a bit."

It had been decided after several cups of black tea (which was dwindling down due to Hermione's tea habit), and strenuous and slightly raised voices across the table. It was now very late in the day and time for dinner to be put on, but due to the incident the witch had run into that morning, she was unable to finish checking the traps Harry made. They were all a bit hungry, which didn't help things much.

What _had_ been decided was that Malfoy could stay on the conditions each of them picked. They were:

Hermione- Everyone must be civil to avoid conflict, rash decisions, and higher chances of being caught (since Ron insisted He-Who-Is-A-Dickhead's name is taboo).

Harry- Draco's not to be told about any of their missions, in case he's actually a mole. So there should be little interaction no matter how angry people are at one another (this was followed up with a threat to Ron, who is an excellent friend, but has a tendency to want to bludgeon Malfoy on occasion. Harry said he would put spiders on him while he slept).

Ron- "He can stay if he doesn't touch my stuff or Hermione OR start asking questions or being a prick because I swear to Merlin-" 

All of that aside, it was agreed upon that Malfoy could stay, but he'd definitely better not touch Ron's collectible Quidditch cards.

 **A/N: And there you have it, the most work I've done all week. A big thanks to user** **codevivi** **for being my first reviewer! That honestly means so much to me, so I hope I addressed it correctly. I'm horrible at first person POV, so this one is still third person. But I will definitely try to better myself at it and have 1st person POV in a future chapter. Thanks, and please review! Everything is greatly appreciated. :~)**


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